Such An Artist
by n0rthsh0r3
Summary: Sara Quin is bipolar. She's also a world famous author but nothing's never good enough. Quincest. Tegan/Sara
1. Chapter 1

"Love is something that everybody strives for…" The speaker began, her words coming out natural and casually, as if she knew nothing of effort. Everything just came to her insouciantly. "I mean, why else do we spend countless hours feeling so god damned low? Because we want to be able to have those moments of clarity and joy. We want to be needed, more or less. You can't argue with that, simply." She said into the microphone, looking at the audience. All these people were here for her. She tried not to think about it. She was a humble girl. "We feed off of that, every day. There's not a day in our lives that we don't think about being loved." She walked around the stage. "Am I not correct?" People nodded, agreeing that she was true.

The speaker spent days writing. When she was in her younger days, the girl would ride horses and cheerlead. She was a lot different. Her parents blamed her friends but she blamed college. It opened up so many doors and options that she didn't know about. It widened her thinking spectrum. She started with skipping her classes to sneak into literature and philosophy lectures. She shaved her hair, just the sides and kept long bangs that swept over her face, hiding her perfect hazel eyes. She started dressing much different, mostly in black. She traded in her contacts for gigantic glasses and began reading heaps more. The way words swayed together to form opinions, thoughts and stories turned her on like no other. She could get physical pleasure from the text she read. Her toes would curl and her skin would rise in goosebumps at the right phrase. She was unique, that girl.

She began writing and published a few novels before today. Now, she was working on some philosophy of the human heart and mind. The way the heart connected to feelings and the way the mind obsessed and fantasized about someone. She wasn't interested in the science of it, though she loved to throw in random facts here and there. They just helped prove her point.

Her obsession with love started as a young girl and grew into something dark. She was so dark, always. She was completely harsh and intricate. She was so obscure. She'd sit in her dorm for days and write away and listen to old folk music like Jackson Frank. She was involved in herself the whole time and really thought about love. She was in love with herself because she had to be. There was no one else but her. She was… the ideal woman. She explained this in a collection of short stories published during her college days.

Since, the woman has been involved in a few scattered romances with different women. She wasn't always gay, of course not. It was this stage she went through that caused her to dig deep and push up all the evidence of homosexuality building up in her life. Her parents completely dismissed and disowned her. Not that she cared. She'd seen them maybe three times since she moved into her dorm.

For a while, she was depressed and danced around drunkenly while clutching a bottle of wine. She missed school and got kicked out. She never earned her degree and whatever she was trying to earn. She didn't really know, but she could care less. She was homeless for about three months after that and she got a job writing memos for lawyers and other business men. She hated that job more than anything and while working in a publishing company, she cornered one of the employees and demand the man read the short story she'd written just that week. He seemed impressed and published it. It was called _Slippery Canvas_ and was a memoir of her homeless life with a girl she'd met named Sonny whom was an artist and she would paint big murals on buildings. It was graffiti but with a purpose other than claiming a gang's turf.

After the piece was published, it was posted in an issue of the New Yorker and that's when she felt her career was going to take off. Much to her dismay, the publishing company dropped her because the new stuff she began to write was about a rape that had occurred to her one night when she was walking through an alley to get to her apartment in a shorter way than usual. The writing was graphic and harsh and peculiar. They had statements that she, herself hated writing but didn't know how else to cope.

She began to write fiction, though most fiction is based off of someone's reality and she had a hard time writing anything that wasn't a log of her own life. She then kept spiraling down; hitting a deep and dark depression where she couldn't explain the actions she was depositing herself in. She would steal books from wherever she could and rip their pages out and paste them to her wall. She would stay in her apartment and send bullshit pieces to the new publishing company that picked her up. She was embarrassed of that work. She hated it so much. It was demeaning. That wasn't who she was. She would just lie around and drink coffee. She didn't sleep much. She carried such pain in her voice when she would talk back then.

She masturbated often, a few times a day if she was feeling good. She didn't think much about it and ignored it. She read a few more pieces of work and realized that she wasn't involved with anyone. She didn't talk to many people. She talked to her neighbor, Todd from the publishing company and the old lady at the market. They weren't people that she felt were worth her time. The lady at the market liked to tell her stories from when she was a young woman. Her neighbor just notified her of what day it was or when she was headed anywhere, the man seemed to always invite her- she wasn't interested, at all. Conversations with Todd were strictly business, though he tried to discuss things with her. She always dismissed him.

She had terrible back pain from lying around all day. She was stick thin and barely weighed 96 pounds. She was unhealthy and sunken and sick. She was distant, always. She wasn't happy, until now.

She started gaining weight and started smiling when she discovered that she had a heart. She could have someone to love. Someone could love her. She could stop drinking wine and whiskey. She could be confident, maybe.

That's what she did. She fell in love and she fell so fucking hard. She was engulfed by the beauty of the new woman and she loved the way her skin smelt and she loved the way the woman's body was shaped and her smile and her eyes and her hair and her heart. She loved her heart. She gave her all for this woman. She loved her with every fiber of her being. She couldn't breathe without this girl. She couldn't, no, she **_wouldn't_** function with her. How could she?

She soon found out, after this gracious and perfect woman left her. She almost fell back into a depressed mess. She started drinking heavily again and cried most hours of the day. She soon got into an obsession with the way she had felt about this girl and why she was so obsessed with her. She started writing only about that, even. It took up her whole being and saved her from depression.

She wrote a book, actually. Her first real book that she was truly proud of. She wrote a book or two while she was with the woman. They were fiction about the couple. How they'd met and fallen in love. After she wrote the new book titled, _The Despairing Lover's Perception,_ she hit it big. It was a best seller and Sara Quin was a household name in the writing world. She had interviews and lectures. She loved it. She ate it up.

"I questioned myself at one point. Why would we let ourselves ever feel this way? I mean, I had hit the lowest of lows. Rock fucking bottom! And I made it out alive. That's my theory. We love to feel sad because we know we have the ability to make it out." She spoke yet again. She spoke the truth, she thinks. "'Why would I want to feel this low, again?' we ask ourselves and feel sick about loving that person. Maybe that person dragged us down because they didn't love us back and we were fooled this whole time. I think about that from time to time. How could someone want to do that to me? Why would anyone get any satisfaction from making a person so low that they are stealing pages from books that they can afford to paste on their wall like some sick freak?" She said a little hesitant. That was her. She was that sick freak. "I know. I've been there. I've pushed myself though and that's what motivated me to write this book." She smiles at the last part. "I want to thank all of you guys from coming out. I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have." As soon as she said it, at least thirty hands shot up. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head and looked around. There was a man with short brunette hair and stubble. She called on him.

"You're a college student." She says with a snort. The guy nodded and blushed. Sara could tell this man found her attractive and it made her laugh a bit more. "What's your question?"

He fumbled, adorably and wringed his hands together. "Actually, I was wondering about your view on suicide over a potential or past lover." She sighed a bit, thinking about all the times she'd come seconds away from killing herself, only she didn't have the guts. She was a coward and she used to punish herself.

"Ah, huh." She thought a bit before answering. "I… My views actually are not what you think. I oppose it, of course, but I know that when you feel that strongly about someone then you need to really think about that person in a different light. I hate to say but… think about their flaws and remind you that you can love again and be loved." The guy smiles but that's not the answer he wants. He writes something down and thanks Sara. She smiles and takes a few more questions.

She thanks everyone and steps off of the stage to sit at the designated desk for her to sign books at. The first person to come up to her is an obscure looking woman with mousy black hair and a pointy, stout nose. She's pretty, despite her dirty appearance. "Hello." The girl says, handing a much worn paperback copy of Sara's book. Sara grins at the girl and signs the book. "I'm glad you've enjoyed my writing." Sara says while the girl thanks her and walks away. The next few people have the same reactions and Sara grows tired of this town's people. They're all the same. Mousy, scared and light.

Once back to the hotel, she can't help but fall into her old habits as she pops open a bottle of scotch and sit back on the bed. She's feeling these waves of depression again, sadly. She's convinced that she's bipolar but she refuses to do anything about it. Sara lays back and cuddles herself into the pillow. She decides the fabric smells of her father and rips the sheets off the bed and throws them out the window. She sits on the dirty mattress and drinks and drinks until she falls asleep.

When she's awoken, her head is pounding and her stomach is rejecting. She feels normal but she tells herself that she won't drink again but she knows that tonight she'll have a second bottle of scotch to herself. And damn right, she'll enjoy the fiery liquid. It's practically noon when she is finished getting ready for the day and heads downstairs. She rushes out the doors past her manager and sneaks into a diner. She sits down and sighs. She looks up from the table and at the waitress. She smiles thankfully and asks for a cup of coffee. The waitress turns and walks away. Sara lets out a breath and opens up her laptop, typing away almost immediately.

Sara doesn't peel her eyes away from the screen when the waitress returns and instead waves her away politely. Her fingers desperately poke at the keys on her laptop and she's interrupted by somebody shutting her computer. Sara gasps and peers up at the woman standing there, a furious look on her face. She groans, eyeing up Betty- her manager. She sighs as she's lectured about showing terrible behavior. Sara rolls her eyes and stands up, grabbing her laptop. "I'm an adult!" Sara screams at Betty and rushes out the door. Her behavior is her own fucking business.

When Sara rushes past a woman, she drops her laptop and it breaks in half. "No!" Sara shrieks, in tears already. She squats down and picks up the busted laptop and looks up at the woman who caused her to do this. "Do you realize what the fuck you just did!?" Sara screams in the short girls face. The screaming doesn't daunt the woman; she stands there with an amused look on her face. "My whole fucking career! You've ruined it, absolutely ruined it!" She cries and begins to break down and weep into her open hands. The girl gazes at Sara. "Sorry." she expresses and squats down next to Sara. "This must suck, yeah?" Sara looks up at her, perplexed. "Are you kidding me?" Sara moans and stands up, picking up the two pieces of her life. The girl spits out her gum. "I'll pay to repair it," Sara doesn't believe her. This woman looks anything but wealthy. "if you have dinner with me." the girl finishes. Sara looks at her, her jaw dropped. "This is how you pick up chicks? Ruin their fucking life and offer dinner?" Sara asked and shook her head about to walk off. The girl grabbed her arm. "Being extremely charming and attractive helps." Sara looked at her and thought about something. Maybe Sara ought to take her own advice for once. Her face softened and she nodded, "Yeah, yeah. It does." The girl grins. "Hi, Sara Quin. I'm the girl of your dreams. XOXO, Tegan Banhart." Sara blushes and thinks for a bit. "Banhart?" Tegan nods and smirks, "Unfortunately, yes."

Tegan Banhart was the daughter of Chris and Mimi Banhart- socialites. Sara couldn't believe she hadn't recognized her. "Deepest apologies." Sara giggles and the pair then exchange numbers and make dinner plans.


	2. Chapter 2

The place was utterly elegant and Sara felt extremely beautiful in her gown. Tegan had sent it to her and at first, Sara was skeptical to wear such feminine attire. Sara steps into the restaurant and tells the hostess that she's Sara Quin and she's supposed to be meeting Tegan Banhart. The hostess smiles and takes her to a table where a blonde man is sitting. The table is set for three and Sara feels absolutely confused. "I think you've got the wrong table." Sara says to the hostess, who shakes her head.

"No, this is Tegan Banhart's table." She says and Sara finally sits down. The hostess walks away and Sara leans towards this man who smiles and asks him who he is.

"I'm Ross. Tegan's boyfriend." He tells her.

Sara scoffs and sits back, "Boyfriend." She says and chuckles, going to stand up. As soon as she grabs her purse and turns to leave, Tegan grabs her arm.

"Please, let me explain." Tegan pleads. She looks different. Her hair is suddenly long and her face is marked with dramatic make-up. There's camera's now. They're flashing at Tegan. Sara can't believe the restaurant let paparazzi in here.

Sara sighs and sits down, "It better be a good explanation." Her eyes scan Tegan's chest, noticing that her breasts are being pushed up by some material and they look as if they might fall out of her gown. Sara reveled in the view as long as she could before anyone noticed. She didn't care about upsetting Ross. She could care less. Her intentions were nothing but sexual for Tegan. She wasn't going to fall in love again. No way. She just needed a hot girl to fuck. And that's what Tegan was.

"Ross isn't my boyfriend, really." Tegan starts and Ross starts to gasp, wrapping his arm around Tegan's shoulders. She rolls her eyes and lowers her voice. "It's for the media. My parents don't want anyone knowing that I'm gay." Sara grins and almost leaves again. Then she realizes that Tegan's the perfect candidate for a strictly sexual relationship. Sara nods, telling Tegan to go on. "My parents want a favor."

"From me?" Sara asks in disbelief.

Tegan nods, "Yeah. They want you to write a book about me." Sara squints, getting a little distressed that she's being used. "Of course, we'd have to spend a lot of time together._ Away_ from the media; alone. Somewhere." Tegan finishes. Sara grins, leaning forward.

"Will Ross be okay with that?" Sara chuckles, turning towards the blonde. Tegan sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Ross, Tegan! Can we get a kiss?" One of the photographer shouts and Tegan turns to Ross and plants a huge, sloppy, French kiss on him. Sara has to be pretend to be okay with this, but she awkwardly turns away. At least Tegan looks like a good kisser. Tegan smiles at the paparazzi and turns back to Sara. "Fucking pigs, really." She grins. Sara raises an eyebrow. "I don't want to do that to you for money."

Sara chuckled, "That so?" Tegan nods and grabs Sara's knee under the table. Sara licks her lips, telling herself to go through with it because Tegan's just so attractive. "I'll write about you. I have no idea how well that it will sell but I'll do it." Tegan giggles.

"Oh, it'll sell." Tegan tells Sara.

By the time they finish dinner, Tegan's ready to get Sara home. She wants her. How could she not? Sara's dreadfully attractive in that dress. It fits her body deliciously. Tegan gets up and lets Ross hold her until they get to the limo. All three of them get in. "Where's your hotel?" Tegan asks and pulls off the wig she's been wearing. She runs her hands through her short locks and Sara scoots closer to her. Ross makes a face. "Wow, you guys are that horny? Gross." Tegan winks at him.

"Yeah, no. We're not. That's a bit too fast, yeah?" Sara asks Tegan and she feels terrible for the obvious change in Tegan's body language. She's disappointed. Tegan nods, looking towards Ross again. "Yeah. Ross you want to come back to my house or…?" Tegan asks and Sara quickly grabs Tegan's waist and pulls her closer. "Wait, no. I'll take you back to my hotel." She says, pulling Tegan in her lap. Tegan grins and turns towards Sara, their lips inches away from each other. Sara breathes hard, smiling. Tegan's fucking beautiful and Sara will love to spend endless days with her. That's where Sara gets scared. She can see herself falling in love with Tegan.

They get to Sara's hotel and quickly get inside before anyone notices. They get up to Sara's hotel room and Tegan is pushed up against the door, instantly. There's this feeling between them. They're so enthralled with each other but neither of them will say it. Sara's lips leave dark marks all over Tegan's neck and collarbone. Tegan rips Sara's dress and pushes it down. Sara giggles, "Fuck. How much did this dress cost?" Tegan breathes hard, looking in Sara's eyes. She smiles and grabs Sara's waist, "I don't know… two grand?" Sara gasps and Tegan laughs. "You just ripped two grand!" Sara scolds Tegan, who laughs and takes her own dress off; both girls left in their underwear and bras. "No biggie." Tegan says against Sara's lips and pushes her hips against Sara's. Sara giggles and slides her thigh in between Tegan's thighs. She pushes up against Tegan's core and the two girls gyrate against each other desperately. Tegan moans loudly, pulling Sara closer. "Ugh, fuck meeeee." Tegan whines and tilts her head back. Tegan's voice makes Sara's pussy tingle, to bluntly put it. Sara's horny, incredibly horny and she wants nothing more than to get her core on Tegan's. She pulls away and grabs Tegan's hands, dragging her to the bed. She lies down and spreads her legs, pulling Tegan on top of her. Tegan sits on Sara's waist and cups her jawline, drawing her up into a kiss. Tegan's tongue feels wonderful in Sara's mouth and Sara raises her hips, kissing back just as frantically. There's a knock on the door and Sara pulls away from the kiss. "Go away!" She shouts and kisses Tegan again, firmer than before. The knock on the door is panicky and it makes Sara sigh. She pulls away and grabs the robe on the chair, pulling it on. "Get under the covers." She tells Tegan before going up to the door.

When she gets to the door, she sees the college boy from the other night standing there. "Can I come in?" He asks. Sara looks at him, "No." He groans, "Please, I need to talk to you."

"Who's at the door?" Tegan calls and the boy raises his eyebrows. "Who's in there?" He asks and Sara goes to shut the door, "None of your business. How did you even know where to find me?" He smiles, "I called your publisher." Sara sighs. "You have two minutes to tell me what you want." He smiles, "I uh… I wanted to talk to you about writing a book together." Sara rolls her eyes. "Not interested." He opens the door more and asks, "Not interested because you've got the hottest socialite in your bed or because you're generally, not interested?" Sara groans, "Not interested because I'm not interested. Now please, I was very busy."

He smiles, "Busy fucking the hot girl in your bed? Are you going to write about it?" Sara's shot with a writing idea but she holds it. "Here's a pad and pen, write your name and number on it. Slide it under the door and leave. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll talk." Sara shuts the door and turns around to see Tegan there, in her dress with her purse, ready to leave. "What? No!" Sara says and grabs Tegan's waist. "Come on, don't leave. I had no idea he was going to show up." Tegan chuckles, "That's cute. I've got to go, love. Alright?" Sara drops the robe and pulls off her bra quickly- in hopes that this would change Tegan's mind. "Please stay." She says. Tegan looks down at Sara's chest and giggles. "So precious." She kisses Sara's lips softly, dropping her purse and pulls Sara closer. Sara grins into the kiss and pulls Tegan's gown off. Tegan sits on the bed and pulls Sara on her lap, kissing her lips over and over.

The two make incredible love that night and Sara wants to keep doing it and doing it. So they do. They both cum a number of times and Sara's convinced that she's never had a better lay. So they wake up, holding each other. "You know…," Tegan starts "If we were at my house, I would make you a big breakfast." Sara giggles and kisses Tegan. "Yeah? I'd like that."


	3. Tegan Memoirs - Awkward First Night

A/N: The story officially starts NOW. It's going to be in the form of Sara's book. Like, this is Sara's book that she's supposed to write. Once the Chapters go back to being titled like "Chapter Three" and stuff, then that's when it's NOT Sara's book. Make sense? I really doubt it. Oh rats. Tell me if that is confusing and next chapter I'll try to explain it. IN ADDITION, I'll be getting my OWN LAPTOP soon, which means... (drumroll please)... CHAPTERS EVERY OTHER DAY, or everyday. Depending on how I feel! Anyways, here's the beginning of Sara's book. Chapter One of her book. Please enjoy and **review, review, review! **

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**Introduction:**

This novel is something that you're not used to. I'm sending out a warning. This obviously looks bad already, so I'll try to keep this introduction short. Your opinion on Tegan Banhart will change completely after reading this novel. You might fall in love with her or you might be disgusted with her. Whatever your opinion may be, mine is only one thing: Tegan Banhart is the most perfect woman I've ever met and I'm happy to admit that I, Sara Quin, am deeply in love with her.

Second, here is my apology to Tegan and her parents.

_**Mr. and Mrs. Banhart,**_ my deepest apologies. I realize that you will read this and you won't get the results you paid me for. Take your money, I don't want it. I want one thing and that's your daughter.

**_Tegan_**, you're absolutely wonderful and I know that we ended on a bad note but you're my world. I love you more than anything. I'm apologizing for all the things I did that hurt you. I'm apologizing for this book. I just have one question,

Tegan Rain Banhart, _will you marry me?_

**Chapter One: Awkward First Night**

My fingers tap at the keyboard in front of me as I look at the girl sitting on the floral couch. The TV flicks with pictures of a couple dancing. The girl on the couch has her hair up in a ponytail, when it's down the hair is at her shoulders—a little shorter, actually. She's wearing a wife beater matched with plaid pajama bottoms. I watch as she pulls her hairtye out and quickly takes a strand in between her fingers, twirling it and chewing her gum. I realize that I'd rather be sitting on the couch with her. I'd much rather have my arms around her. Instead, though, I'm right here at the table. I sigh, telling myself that I shouldn't be so nervous around her. I'd see her nude, but then, she had so much makeup on. She was a different person. She wasn't as gorgeous as now. I stand up, walking over to the couch but the doorbell rings, stopping me. I feel my wallet in my back pocket and head towards the door.

"$27.98" The Asian guy says to me. I got to reach behind me to grab my wallet but I feel a hand on my bum and I also feel Tegan lean into me. She's got her purse.

"I've got it, Sara." She says to me, smiling. I shake my head but she hands the guy two twenty dollar bills and grabs the food. She tells him to keep the change and she shuts the door.

Tegan places her purse on the counter and walks back to the couch, with her food and a glass of Coca-Cola that I'd poured for her. She calls me over to her and I take my food and my glass of Scotch. Sadly, I can't go without it tonight. It's unfortunate. I take a seat next to Tegan and she stretches and lays her legs on my thighs. She smiles up at me and begins eating her food. I dig into mine, Tegan and I stealing glances at each other the whole time. She giggles and eventually, she sits up. Her lips are dangerously close to my ear. I can feel her breath.

"What took you so long?" She asks, hooking her arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer.

I shrug, unsure what she means entirely.

Tegan giggles and kisses my neck before pulling away and walking to the kitchen. I get up and follow her. A million thoughts run through my mind but I want to kiss her. I wash my dishes and turn to Tegan, who's leaning against the counter. She smiles big, extending her arms out to me. She grabs me and pulls me to her. I wrap my arms around her waist and breathe in. Her scent is the most enticing thing ever, I nuzzle against her more. I'm totally enthralled and I get scared and my mind tells me to back off. And I try. I try to pull away but Tegan grabs me tighter. I soon realize that she's grinding against me. I pull my face away and look in between us. She's got her hand in her pants. I pull it out for her and look at her. I quickly kiss her. She's whining. I shake my head, this wasn't how I planned our first night together. Erm, well… second. I pull away and she groans.

"Don't make me do this alone." She pouts, her lower lip is inviting.

I shake my head and kiss her, unable to control myself really. I grip her jawline with my hands and pull her closer. Tegan whines against me and she wraps her arms around my neck. She looks at me and grins adorably.

"Ready?" She asks and I nod, unsure what she means. Then she jumps a bit and wraps her legs around my waist. She begins giggling and I run my fingers through her hair before supporting her by holding her bum. She kisses my cheek while I carry her to the bedroom. I press her against the door and she loosens her legs, standing on the floor. She smiles and kisses me quickly. My mind is foggy with alcohol so I can't tell if she's in this whole 'spending time together' for sex or if she's into me. I don't care, my alcohol ridden mind decides and I push her on the bed, getting in between her legs. She grips my back and then peels off my shirt.

I push her arms away and I kiss her neck, she swiftly gets her hands out of my grip. I chuckle and then go for her shirt, pulling it off of her. I lean back down and begin kissing her neck more. She arches her back and my body erupts in tingles. I roll over, lying next to her. She lies on her side, her hands undoing my pants. I look at her. She looks up at me, laying her head on my collarbone.

"Maybe we shouldn't." She whispers.

I agree with Tegan but my body doesn't. I tell myself to stop and I kiss her. I audibly agree with her and she wraps her arms around me. In no time, Tegan falls asleep and I lie awake. I trail my fingers along her collarbone. I kiss her collarbone. I whisper to her that she's wonderful. She opens one eye and giggles. I blush.

"I'm scared." She then says.

"Why?"

"I might be falling in love with you." She whispers, "Already."

"Me too." I reply, realizing how toxic this is already.

"Don't write about this." She mutters before drifting off.

But I do write it.


End file.
